Nightlight
by secretaryofsillywalks
Summary: 20 fears of the Black family. drabble-ish character sketches.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Sirius's thoughts belong to Citizen Kane and It's a Wonderful Life, respectively.**

**a/n: the beginning of each drabble-thing will state the fear that is being 'explored'**

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Nostophobia: Fear of returning home

Sirius Black stood on the stoop to Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

He hadn't been here for years – since he ran away when he was sixteen. He hadn't been able to stand the way his family's constantly spewed bigoted ideas about. He hadn't been able to stand the need for perfection, for nobility and aristocracy. He hadn't been able to stand the need for sameness - stability.

He smiled slightly; _I always gagged on the silver spoon didn't I?_

He had promised himself he would never return, and yet, here he was, standing outside the house in the rain. If anyone had asked him he told them he wouldn't go back because blood was not thicker than water – he was not one of them. In reality, he feared what would happen If he returned home. He wouldn't be able to stand all the stress, pressure, the memories.

_Look at you. You used to be so cocky. You were going to go out and conquer the world. What happened?_

He gulped as he opened the door. Everyone had to face their fears sometime. For him that meant finally returning home.

**reviews are wonderful, thanks.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Still don't own H.Potter**

**a/n: This story, unlike the first, does not outright state Bellatrix's fear. It's more of a character-sketch that shows how she acts/thinks reflects her fear. Get that?**

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Soteriophobia: Fear of dependence on others

Bellatrix sat in the parlor of her home staring anxiously at the fireplace, biting her lip in worry, waiting for Rodolphus to return.

He had left on a mission nearly five hours ago.

Bellatrix had not wanted to get married. She knew she had to, and she did, but that didn't mean she was happy about it. She did everything she could to avoid contact with the man she now called her husband. They had separate Gringotts accounts, separate bedrooms, ate their meals in silence.

Rodolphus didn't like it at all, but he went along with it, if only to appease her until she demanded more freedom. He wanted children; he wanted to be the sole financial backer of the 'family', the bread-winner. He wanted to shower her with petty gifts, things that merely looked pretty, something you would find on a housewife. Bellatrix was under the impression that the man had been dreaming of owning the proverbial house with a white picket fence, two and a half kids, and a dog.

She wouldn't let him have it. She didn't want it. She didn't want to be a housewife, a slave to his every whim, answering his every beck and call. She simply wanted him to leave her alone.

She didn't need him to lead a life full of luxuries, make her happy. She was not like Narcissa.

And yet, here she was, waiting for the very man she hated to return home as if her life, her sanity and happiness, depended on it.

She new, deep down, that she could survive without him, she didn't need him. Her life revolved around herself and herself alone.

She kept telling herself that as she waited, strengthening her resolve, regaining her independence once more.

She didn't need him.

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**so, how'd I do with my fearicterization? (that's fear - characterization for all you)**

**Please drop me a review and tell me what you think, thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP**

**a/n: this one, like the Bellatrix one, is more focused on how the fear affects a person's viewpoint. Hopefully I did a good job characterizing this fear.**

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Metathesiophobia : fear of change

Walburga set _The Daily Prophet_ down, her heart practically in her throat and a frown marring her face. Her hand trembled as she took a sip of tea.

There was yet another article about young witches and wizards calling for centaur equality, then another about protecting 'Muggleborns'.

It scared her, it really did. Were they so naïve that they did not know what they were doing? They had, with all their talk of equality and the Dark Lord being a 'racist fascist' – whatever that was – started a war! They wanted to change the country, they said. And they were!

Because of them and their radical ideals centuries old traditions were fading; centuries old families were dying.

Her own son, gone, because of them! Killed trying to preserve a life that many no longer wished existed. She never thought that loosing him would hurt the way it did. It left a gaping hole in her heart, another empty bedroom, one less place setting at the kitchen table. It was, quiet possibly, the worst thing that had ever happened to her - worse than when Sirius had run away.

She had to slowly adjust to this horrible new change, one of many.

She, like her son, loved and lived by those centuries old traditions, that way of life. They were tried and true, proven to be the best.

She had taught her son the pureblood etiquette, everything from the proper way to eat soup to the proper way to take a lady's cloak; She still had her cloaks handmade by a seamstress; she still had the table set with the finest china every night; she still read handwritten books by candlelight.

She remembered when the minister had done these things to - back when the minister believed werewolves and centaurs were dangerous halfbreeds. She remembered when a woman dared not show her ankle, when the men always accessorized with a cane. Those things had been a constant throughout her life, and suddenly they were changing.

The "new-age" witches and wizards yelled out for change, a renewal. Witches wore short skirts and got jobs at the bank; Wizards donned 'jeans' and 'ball caps'. They wore too much makeup and plastered their hair with gel and carried around the newest 'technology'.

They were sloppy and unrefined, slurping their soup and placing elbows on tables, loud and rude, using vulgar language and always talking too loudly. The new minister bought his cloaks pre-made, off of a rack, and listened to the rebellious cries for new laws and equality.

They and all of their changes and revolutions and equality were ruining everything that was great about how they,wizards, lived.

Things were changing in the wizarding world, and Walburga Black did not know how to handle that change.

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**idk I'm unsure about this one. I get the fear a little bit from that, but I wrote it. Do you see it in there?**

**Reviews are welcome - thanks!**


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